


Finding My Voice

by Synli



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Dreams, Gridania, Miqo'te, Origin Story, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Synli Lagard (OC)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synli/pseuds/Synli
Summary: Synli Lagard is a shy Miqo'te who's been working at the Carline Canopy, a tavern in the City-state of Gridania, for years. She's always been on the reserved side, choosing to spend her free time alone once her work days are over, but thanks to unforeseen circumstances, she's forced to gradually push beyond her comfort zone if she ever wants to return to her life of relative obscurity.(I'll update the tags as more chapters are added :3)





	1. The Flame Haired Man

_           
_ **Prologue**

_           In all of Eorzea, there exists no power more magical than inspiration. From it can spring forth horrible atrocities that the mind can barely grasp, though it also lends its power to those who erase such horrors from existence. Small ideas or thoughts can be nurtured by this power until they’re able to shape the very world in which we reside, be it for the better or worse. As dangerous as it’s shown to be time and time again, the real danger lies in just how fickle it can be. In one fleeting moment one can have their purpose stripped away, and without a purpose, even the mightiest armies will crumble and fall. I suppose that’s how the world keeps her in balance, as few men and women can accomplish much without her aid. _

 

__ _ To be honest, it’s only recently that I’ve found myself pondering the nature of inspiration, only after meeting some true friends and finding my own reason to move forward, have I been able to look around and see that purpose shapes all actions. It’s my dearest hope to fill these pages with as much of interest as possible in a goal to inspire others as events in my own life conspired to lead me to my own inspiration. If even one person finds the desire to do something new with their life, be it taking up arms, or just changing their normal routine, I feel the world could only be made better.  _

 

__ _ I’m aware that you may be thinking that what follows will be made up, over exaggerations or somehow doctored in some way, as bards often tend to do. My only answer comes from what I learned of bards in my journey, their songs and music only holds power with the real emotion that comes from actually living and experiencing the world and her wonders. Those weavers of tall tales that fill up tavern after tavern, night after night, aren’t the true minstrels of old. Their songs carry none of the magic and inspiration of others, only being able to enchant your minds for the evening, instead of weaving raw emotion through their songs. If you feel even the smallest amount of the emotion that I felt through these experiences, then you’ll know just how real all of this was. Thank you for giving me the chance to share my life with you. _

 

**Chapter 1**

 

_ My story, one of countless others, begins in Gridania, a peaceful forest city-state surrounded by the lush greenery of the Black Shroud. If you’re unfamiliar with the place, the name may seem unfitting at first. After all, why would a lush forest carry a name like that? Is it just a trick of the locals to scare off unfamiliar faces? One shouldn’t go too deep off the winding trails of the Shroud to investigate, however, as all sorts of fearsome creatures and unsavory types prowl in the lesser traveled shade of the tall trees. My parents….well, my ‘true’ parents may have been some of those less fortunate folk, struck down by poachers as I was napping in the back of their carriage. I owe my life, and the fact that I haven’t yet joined them, to the wood wailer who just so happened to be patrolling the area.  _

 

__ Feeling the soothing caress of the sun over my uncovered legs draws me slowly from my slumber and dreams of the past. With a long yawn I raise my arms above my head and stretch, exposing more of my skin to the comforting rays of sunlight, and inadvertently knock the Carbuncle plush from my bed onto the chilled wood below. Rolling to the side to mount a quick rescue, I’m able to snatch it back up from the freezing grasp of the hardwood, though I end up entangled in a mess of blanket as thanks for my efforts. As I struggle with the soft fabric, I’m caught off guard by three quick knocks at the door. “Synli! Are you awake? I know it’s your day off, but we need you out there.”

 

_ Damn….well, at least I’m up early. _ Sighing to myself as I manage to pull free from the bed’s comforting grasp, my feet dropping down onto the ice kissed wood. “S….sure, that’s fine. I’ll be right down.” Shuddering as I speak, my body curses at me for the sudden drop in temperature. Waiting for the presence beyond the door to subside, I slowly climb to my feet, taking baby steps until I’m able to reach the little patch of sunlight, where I can stand without turning into a miqo-sicle. Raking my fingers through my hair to tame the plum colored mass of bedhead into something resembling my everyday style, I hazard a cautious glance over to the mirror. “Not...actually that bad, I guess.”

 

Placing a hand on each hip, I indulge myself with a bit of vanity, as I gaze upon the cream-toned skin of the kitty in the mirror. Allowing my eyes to wander, they travel up and down my distinctly, well, regular form. A small amount of muscle blends into my petite stomach creating something close to abs if you stare in just the right way. A bit higher are the two small handfuls that are my breasts, though they’re hidden below the white bra I’d chosen to sleep in last night. Finally reaching my face, I’m met with a familiar smile and two unblinking pools of blue and green.

 

Giving myself a thumb’s up in the mirror, I’m suddenly drawn out of my little game by the sound of whistling coming from just beyond the...oh god! Looking out the opened window I catch sight of a heavily bearded Lalafell mirroring my previous gesture, before the window is swiftly slammed shut as I blush profusely. Sucking in a deep breath, I hold it in for as long as I can muster to calm my thoroughly pounding heart. Reaching a hand upwards to my necklace, I run the little charm between my fingers, instantly feeling my nerves quiet down as a rush of calm fills me.

 

“I miss you, dad.” Only giving myself a few more moments to reminisce before slipping into the ever familiar dress that all of the tavern girls wear, a snug white top that hugs the figure and accentuates...womanly features. The bottom of a dress is thankfully a long flowing fabric that barely manages to brush along the tops of feet while one is up and walking around. They used to be a bit longer but after a few instances of spilled drinks from...one girl in particular, were thankfully shortened. Blushing at the memory, I work my fingers diligently through my messy locks, straightening them until I’m able to work the white bands around each handful of hair.

 

          “It’ll have to do.” Giving myself one last glance in the mirror, I push the door open and slip out into the hallway, already hearing the distinct sound of patrons talking over one another.  _ It feels like I’ve worked here forever...but everyday I find myself praying that it will be over faster. _ Quickening my pace, I speed down the stairs, knowing that if I give myself time to think, I won’t be able to bring myself to dive into the crowd. All too soon my foot hits the bottom step and I turn the corner into the writhing mass of anarchy that is our regular crowd.

 

          Despite the chaos, I’m at least thankful that it’s not as bad as some other tavern’s in the world, I’ve heard stories of how violent some can get in Ul’dah, and those ex-pirates in Limsa. Just thinking about dealing with them is enough to make me shudder and reach up for the relieving chilled metal of my necklace.  _ 3..2..1.. _ Sliding the small charm below my top, I feel the comforting touch of the metal as I scan the crowded room for another dress that matches mine. 

 

          It’s then that I hear the familiar outgoing voice of Illiana as she excitedly listens to one of the countless adventurers that dot these halls going on about the wonders he’s seen.  _ That girl, always fascinated by everything that even carries a whiff of adventure. _ Making my way to the sitting duo, the auburn haired Miqo’te is watching with wide eyes as a burly Roegadyn recounts the time he fought his way all the way to Coerthas’ frozen peaks. “Umm...Illi?” Clearing my throat nervously before interrupting the pair with her nickname, I’m surprised how quickly they peel away from each other to notice something outside their little ‘adventurer’s club’.

 

          “Oh! Syn, you’re here. I was wondering if you could take over the rest of my shift today, pretty please?” Batting her eyes childishly at me as she scoots closer to the brawny adventurer, it’s pretty clear why she needs me to do this in the first place. With a deep sigh, I pretend to weigh the choices, even though it’s not likely I’d be able to say no, even if I wanted. “Just don’t wear out our guest with your childish enthusiasm.” In mere moments, the thrill seeking Miqo springs upwards from her spot, wrapping me in a hug that could put someone much larger than her to shame. “Awww, thank you so much! You’re the best, I owe you one!” With the problem of her work taken care of, she’s quick to let go and plop back down into her seat, this time even closer to the large adventurer. 

 

          Making my way up to the bar where the kindly Elezen owner resides, Mother Miounne, I’m met with a tender smile. “Good Morning, Synli.” Responding in kind, I pick up the tray of drinks from the counter, readying myself to make my way across the sea of noise to deliver them to their respective owners. “You don’t have to do her work for her, you know.”  _ That Miounne, always able to see through everything so easily. It’s a surprise that she isn’t the one in charge of Gridania. _ “It’s okay, I need to break out of my shell more anyway, right?” With an embarrassed smile, I push into the crowd, whatever her response was is cut off by the constant shouts ringing out from almost every table, interspersed with the occasional cries of “Hey Girlie!” or “Over here, kitty cat!” from our especially loud clients.

 

          Moving through the waves, I’m able to drop off the entire tray of drinks to the happy patrons, some even seeing fit to give me a bit of gil as a tip for their latest pint of ale or specialty drink. I’m not able to get far with an empty tray before hands shoot up at tables as I pass by, beckoning me closer to take their drink orders. It’s surprising how many people prefer our assortment of specialty wines over the regular garden variety ale that we have constantly on tap. Returning to the matronly Elezen, I relate to her each and every order as she goes about filling glasses with all different assortments of alcoholic beverages. 

 

           Despite working in a bar for the last few years, I really don’t care that much for drinking, I guess I’ve seen too many people do stupid things when they have a little too much to drink. As well as the increasing number of hands reaching out to cop a feel or pull my tail the closer it gets to closing time. Surprisingly Illiana’s latest adventurer friend’s stories don’t last too much longer, as I’m tapped on the shoulder by the apologetic kitty during one of my runs back through the tables. “Uh...Synli, I’ll take the rest of my shift if you want me to.”

 

          “What happened to tall, dark, and green?” I joke at her despite her face showing she doesn’t really seem up to jokes at the moment. “Nothing, I just don’t feel like I should pawn off my work on you all the time, especially not on your days off.” Hazarding a glance over at the ever watchful matron of the tavern, she meets my gaze with a knowing smile, before addressing the latest newbie adventurer to walk through the door. Looking back to Illiana, her face is already back to her characteristic bubbly smile. “So, I’m gonna repay the favor.” 

 

          Feeling her hands grasping my arm tight, the next thing I know is that I’m being pulled through the sea of faces and names, catching bits of conversation here and there. Just as I’m about to ask where she’s taking me, I’m pushed down into a cushioned mahogany chair belonging to a table at the outskirts of the room. “I don’t want to order anything Illi, you know I don’t drink.” 

 

          “Aww, what’s the matter with a friendly drink and some friendly company my good lass?” Ears twitching, I turn from the familiar face to the unfamiliar source of the lightly accented voice to see myself face to face with a finely groomed Hyur. Studying the man’s face for a moment in confusion, I turn to my grinning companion. “You’ve worked here just as long as I have, Syn, and you’ve never once cut loose or spent time listening to what our adventuring friends have to say. I’m just repaying the favor.” 

 

          “Not everyone wants to be an adventurer, Illi.” Feeling bad for my words as her face falls, I sigh before giving her a smile. “Thank you though, I’ll sit and listen for a while.”  _ Just for you… _ I finish, in my own mind. Turning back to look at the man, who's obviously an adventurer of some sort, judging by the way he handles himself and tips back his mug of ale. “What’sa matter, lass? Not the adventuring type?” Giving my head a few quick shakes, I continue my air of silence when it comes to the flame haired adventurer.

 

          “What’s wrong with adventuring? You get all the fresh air and excitement you could ask for, as well as the love of the people and all that nonsense.” Waving his hand dismissively when he brings up being loved and respected by others, I can’t help but ask. “What’s nonsense about having others look up to you and respect you for what  you do?” Placing his latest mug down on the table, the man lets out a bellowing laugh. “People are quick to ‘respect’ you when  you’re doing things for them, but as soon as you move on, you’re just some nameless sod who will barely be remembered. It’s much better to just realize that early on, and only take the jobs that reward you something in return, that way you’re actually receiving something for your trouble.”

 

          Finding myself drawn into the conversation, if only for the chance to plead the opposing side to his argument, I place both elbows on the table as I plot out my point. “There’s nothing saying you can’t get the rewards you’re looking for, and help people, is there? It doesn’t have to be solely self serving.” The man breaks out into a bout of laughter at that, before raising a hand to signal for two more pints to be dropped off. “You know, for someone who’s not a fan of listening to adventurers, you certainly have some opinions about them, eh girl?”

 

          Against my better judgement, I find myself taking a sip here and there of the ale that Illiana had placed before me, though at the moment the sole noticeable effect I can feel is the room getting a bit more hot. Shaking my head vehemently, I take a deep breath to steady myself before I find the words to answer. “It’s not got anything to do with adventurers, I just feel like people who have power should use it to help others. If you don’t do anything to help people, what’s the point?” I answer, before taking another long sip of the spiced ale, and sinking further into its clutches.

 

          “Ahhh, there’s a bright girl. So you think that just because someone has power, they should find themselves at the whim of the masses, to be used to save someone’s cat or go after every single monster to make the world ‘a safer place’?” By this point, the stranger’s cheeks are flushed and his words are picking up the slightest traces of slurring as he speaks, though he continues to down pints of ale with no sign of stopping. Nursing my own glass, I feel myself getting dangerously close to the point that will leave me with a killer headache tomorrow morning.

 

          “N..no, of course not, that’s just asking too much. Of course people needsh to be able to take care of themsshelves. Is it too much to ask for people to do their part to help others though?” Beginning to slur my own words only causes my cheeks to flush more as the corners of my vision begin to wobble, though it doesn’t stop me from finishing off my glass.

 

          “Aww, what’s the matter? Didn’t get your kitten rescued from a tree by a passing adventurer when you were little? Something must have happened to set you on this ‘using your power to help’ idea.” All the normally clear and concise parts of my mind dulled by the alcohol, I’m unable to filter my language any longer, especially having him call my past into question. The next thing I know, I’ve slapped my hands down on the table, and I’ve raised my voice.

 

          “Maybe if people would have actually helped when they had the chance, my dad wouldn’t be dead!” The beginnings of laughter die on his lips as soon as his foggy brain processes my words. Lashing my tail from side to side in agitation, I continue to unload on the target of my ire. “My dad was a Wood Wailer, he always did his best to help everyone he could! He helped me…” Biting back the tears, my throat feels like it’s been coated with fire as I attempt to swallow, to do something to clear my mind. “His group’s patrol crossed paths with a caravan under attack by monsters. He stayed there, fighting, until the rest of his men could get the civilians to safety...but he didn’t make it.” Looking down, I can see droplets of tears falling into my emptied glass, making small splashes as they mingle with the remains of my drink.

 

          Sitting in silence despite the laughter and merriment going on around the room, I just continue to stare into my cup, even as my hand slides up to grasp the silver chain around my neck, pulling the little charm from my top and into my waiting hand. Only feeling a little better with the cool steel of the good luck charm wrapped in my hand, I softly clear my throat. Already feeling awful at blowing up on the poor guy trying to have a good time, I try and think of a way to apologize.

 

          “So...that was your dad’s, eh lass?” Giving a few slow nods, I squeeze the metal tighter until I feel it biting into my skin slightly. “He gave it to me after he rescued me. I was so scared of living in a new town, that he gave me his necklace to help cope. He told me…” Mustering my best gruff fatherly voice “If you ever need me, or feel scared, just hold it tight, and I promise, I’ll be right there.” Looking up slightly to the concerned face of the stranger, I’m surprised when he offers a smile.

 

          “Well...at least he was able to save people, I’m sure that he went out doing what he loved.” Nodding a few times, I suddenly feel exhausted from the emotional explosion, my eyes feeling especially sore. “Though, if you will pardon me, lass, I don’t really see why that would cause your distaste for the adventuring type.” Already feeling my strength fading fast, the urge to just lay my head on the table grows ever stronger.

 

          Having to clear my throat to be able to talk, now, I take a few shots at swallowing before the words are finally able to get free. “The family...the one from the caravan, they wanted to pay an adventurer to help them cross that part of the forest. Every one they asked, though, wanted three times what they could pay at the time. If someone would have been there, they could have helped before the caravan was overrun.”

 

          Giving an understanding nod, the man strokes his neatly trimmed beard for a moment longer. “I can see how that would sour your opinion of the lot of us. I’m sure there are ones out there that help out of the kindness of ‘er hearts. Thank you for stopping in and deciding to have a chat with me, miss...?” Barely able to keep my head up, worn out from the stress and weakened from the drink, I give my name as I attempt to climb to my feet. “Synli Lagard.”

 

          Nodding as he raises himself up from the table. “Well, Ms. Lagard, please allow me to escort you to your room. Already cursing myself for succumbing to the sweet kiss of ale, I allow him to take my arm, steadying me as we make our way to the stairs. Looking toward the rest of the bar as I’m walked, I see just how late it already is, with the only ones left in the room to be our regular crowd, as well as an unfamiliarly cloaked Miqo’te. As we take our first steps up the stairs, I swear that I catch the sharp white glint of her fangs curling into a smile as well as a shimmering golden eye.

 

          All the other occupants fade from my mind as everything grows even more hazy, I can barely feel the man’s hand on my arm anymore as we make our way to my room at the end of the hall. “What did you say your name was again? Or didn’t I ask?” I lazily try to draw out some noise as we walk. “The names’ Delann Kiernan, m’dear.” “Nice to meet you.” My response is the last thing I remember as the mess of emotions and alcohol finally bite me in the ass, and everything begins to grow dark before blinking out of existence.

 

          Just as soon as the world blinks away, it seems to come back in full force only this time it has a pounding headache to accompany it. The very moment that I roll over on my bed, I’m met with the bright sunlight as the pounding in my head grows worse from the agitation. Plucking a pillow from the top of my bead, I drag it down over my eyes to shield them from the blinding rays. “Ugh! This is why I never drink.”

 

          Laying in my bed as I pray for the light sensitivity to ease off just a little, I begin to remember everything that happened last night, from the adventurer I was forced into a conversation with to my outburst on that very same adventurer. Tears prick at the very corners of my hidden eyes as I remember the strong emotions I let free thanks to alcohol’s soothing caress. It’s only then that I become aware that my mouth feels as parched as a desert, I’m not even able to summon up any saliva to soothe the dry feeling.

 

          Sliding slowly to my feet, they hit the refreshingly cool wood of the floor before I turn away from the window and drop the pillow back down onto my heaps of blankets. Noticing that something feels strange, and just...off, I look down to be met with the red and white of my tavern girl outfit.  _ At least he didn’t see me naked… _ Since I’m still dressed from last night, I make my way quickly from my room and down into the tavern below. Dipping quickly back behind the bar before anyone is alerted to my presence, I pour myself a large mug of cool water before instantly downing it as my throat cries out in relief. 

 

           Now that I’m no longer in any pressing discomfort, save the lightly throbbing headache, I’m able to glance around beyond the bar to see who’s all here this morning. Giving very few of the patrons a second glance, my eyes stop on another Miqo’te sitting with what I assume is her party. Easily able to identify her as an adventurer by the scar over her right eye, and the axe across her back, neither of these takes away from her subtle beauty as she smiles and carries on with those at her table. 

 

          I’m struck from my observation as Miounne approaches me from the side. Breaking my gaze away from her and instead aiming it up at the tall Elezen, my cheeks flush red.  _ Please don’t have seen, please don’t have seen… _ Placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, she gives it a soft pat. “Are you okay, Synli? Things seemed a bit heated with your friend over there last night.” It takes a moment for it to come back to me before I’m able to nod.

 

          “I’m okay, don’t worry.” Giving the kind Elezen a smile. “I’m actually feeling pretty good right now, minus the headache.” Rubbing my temple with two fingers as I move to take a seat along the bar. “Ah, well don’t worry my dear, you’re hardly the first one to underestimate the strength of their drink. I’ll see if I have anything back here to help with that headache of yours.”

 

          Nodding graciously, I’m halfway into the chair when Miounne looks up at me, gazing at me curiously before she finally asks “Synli, what happened to your necklace? I haven’t seen you go without it for a day since your father gave it to you.” Just like that, I reach upwards to tug at the shiny chain to show her that it’s right where it’s supposed to be. As my hand connects with nothing but empty air, however, I can already feel my chest beginning to pound.

 

          Placing my fingers on the side of my throat as I try and ponder just where it could have gone, the world begins to dim once again.  _ N..no, where is it? No no no no.  _ By the time she can rush around the counter, I’m already falling, towards the floor and back into the grasping claws of slumber. The last thing I remember are frantic sounds around the front of the bar as all noises begin to dim and fade before I lose consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter of Synli's tale explores her past, long ago, before she ever took the job at the Carline Canopy.

Chapter 2

         
          _I’m not sure how long the darkness has gone on for, time started to lose meaning for me around the time that all the outside voices faded into deafening silence. As long as I can remember, it’s just been me here, locked in with my own terrified thoughts, really bringing to life that old quote about being our own worst enemy. If I listen hard enough I’m actually able to hear my own voice speaking quietly amidst the empty blackness*_ _“You lost it….” “How could you?” “Dad would be so disappointed.”_

 

_ As the scathing remarks continue to echo around the void, each one cutting into me a bit more than the last, I begin to feel the tell tale sensation of tears beading up at the corners of my eyes. Reaching a hand up towards where I’m pretty sure my head is, I manage to run the back of my hand over my cheek and sure enough, it comes away damp. I’ve never felt more like a helpless little kitten since I found out about father’s death. As soon as I begin to remember that day and the weeks after, something strange occurs. Piercing the veil of darkness all around me, a white light cuts through the darkness. Drawn closer to the small window of light, I float closer until my cheek presses up against the light’s source, a familiar warmth seeming to come from the ‘glass’. _

 

_         Gazing through the window, I see small flashes of memory passing me by, blurred pictures of my parent’s faces, myself as a tiny little thing, and finally our wagon. Biting into my lip as I try to stifle the cold chill that runs through my entire being, I’m met with the faint coppery taste of blood. Nursing my small bite, I continue gazing through the memories. There were plenty more happy days after I lost my parents, mainly involving my adoptive father. I don’t know how he had so much time to spend with a wayward orphan when he had a patrol route to keep an eye on, but I always thought he was amazing. Why would I need to look up to adventurer’s when my dad was good enough to be an actual warrior of light? _

 

_         Among the birthdays, skinned knees, and attempts to branch out and meet the other kids of the village, one particular memory catches my attention, if only because it’s the most stubborn and determined look I’d ever seen myself wearing. Wait….I remember this, it’s just after my 15th birthday. Looking closer, I study the scene closer as I take a second to reminisce upon the main room of our old cabin. Resting in his favorite rolanberry red recliner, my father is trying to dissuade me from something he doesn’t approve of; standing in front of the large man, but still managing to have to look up at him, I’m firmly standing my ground. _

 

“Synli, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” The kind eyes of my father gaze down at my expression of pure determination as I place a hand on each hip to signify that I’m not going to step down. Giving me another one of his “When you’re older” looks, he places a hand on the top of my head, ruffling the top of my plum shoulder length locks. “Nooo! Dad!” Puffing out my cheeks in annoyance, as well as to hold back any smile that might disarm my argument, I lock eyes with him. “Teach me how to fight. I mean, I should know how to protect myself, right?” Giving the man a smug ‘I’ve got you now’ look, I grin as he takes a minute to answer, obviously trying to figure out what the lesser of two evils would be.

 

        As his fatherly instinct fights against his desire not to see his daughter come to any harm, the weary Hyur finally lets out a long, exhaled sigh. “I suppose I can show you some techniques. Show. That’s it, though.” Jumping into the air excitedly, I don’t even try to hide the smile on my face as I already begin to mime some punches and kicks. “Hyahh! Hyyyah!” Grinning at the show, it’s only after I realize that he’s still watching me that he wipes the smile from his face, fixing me with a firm expression instead. “Synli, you have to promise me that you’re only going to fight if it’s your last resort. Only attack if there’s no other way around the situation, and if someone is posing a direct threat to you. Defense only.”

 

        A bit surprised from the abrupt switch in his demeanor, I just give a few slow nods as the towering mass of strength climbs from his favorite chair, and wastes no time in making his way for the back door. Following quietly behind my father, I’m still shocked that there’s none of the usual playfulness that only seems reserved for interactions with me. As we leave the threshold of our small cottage, we’re instantly swept up in the midday summer breeze. Taking a few steps along the back porch of our dwelling, I continue to follow him down the wooden steps that lead to the training area.

 

        As I look to the left and right I can see the beautiful green foliage that shrouds the path from most others, in fact I’d be lost myself if it wasn’t for following right behind dad. Our trek would be in total silence if it wasn’t for the cries of birds overhead and the sounds of other creatures that lurk on the outskirts of the forest. Just the thought of things just out of sight, watching us, causes the fur on my tail and ears to stand straight as I push ahead a bit more to keep in time with my father’s steps. My eyes grow wide as soon as the first training dummy comes into view, though it’s soon met with more and more, until I see a small circle of them.

 

         _Why does he need so many?_  Is the question on my mind, however before it can be moved to my lips to search for an answer, we stop our silent march. Panning his gaze from the circle of dummies to the small shed that houses all of the equipment for training, upon seeing everything is in order, my father continues onwards. Just as I think I’m going to get to see the interior of his shed, we pass right by it. “Uh...dad...the shed’s back that way.” Without answering, my father keeps walking, with every step the silence seems to grow more heavy and somber. Before long we reach another small clearing, one with a small stone marking the end of the path.

 

        It doesn’t take as long as I would have thought for the realization to hit me as he lowers himself to one knee and places a gentle hand on the etched stone. Looking over his shoulder, I try picking out the faded letters, but I’m only able to see a few with his hand in the way. **In loving memory of Kaia Lagard.** The rest is a bit hard to see, though I can pick out what I’m pretty sure is **beloved**. Standing here in silence, I finally will myself to travel the few steps closer to place my gentle hand on my father’s back as I listen to his deep sigh as he finishes up his prayer.

 

        I knew that he’d been married before, after all, I’m almost certain that’s where he’d gotten the necklace he’d given me, which makes it all the more special and something I have to cherish. Without a word the large man climbs to his feet and with one last glance at the grave, he places a hand on my shoulder to lead me back to the training pit. As we reach the front, he points at one of the far dummies along the outskirts and I get the message he’s trying to pass along, “go pick a dummy” but what I really get from that is, “I don’t want you to snoop around in the training shed, it’s dangerous in there.” Not wanting to dispute the man so soon after such an emotional scene back there, I scurry over to one of the wooden dummies to observe it closer.

 

        Placing a hand on the wooden figure, I become aware of just how beat up the training dummy is, with small knicks dotting the surface here and there, along with little indentions in the wood where it must have been struck repeatedly with blunt objects. My inspection comes to an end as I’m bopped on the top of the head by something hard. Turning quickly to look for the source of the sudden unexpected touch, I’m already just a second away from crying out when I’m met with my father’s gentle pools of brown again.

 

        Looking to me, and back at the dummy, he gives the stick figure a few practice punches, bobbing and weaving between bouts of opening up on the defenceless stick man with the heavy knuckle coverings. **Whack! Crack! Crunch!** The fist weapons meet the hard wood with even more force, occasionally causing small slivers of wood to dislodge themselves from the battered target of his beating. Miming my father’s movements, I punch the air with as much force as I can, though I quickly end up a panting mess, just watching him continue his demonstration as he grins all the while. Depleting my energy doesn’t do a thing to curb my enthusiasm, however, as I wander closer to the demonstration. Observing his movements and each flurry of punches with a childish glee, my tail sways excitedly from side to side.

 

        The display can’t hold my attention forever, as I soon find myself standing at my own target dummy. Positioning myself so I’m still able to see my father’s movements, with one eye on him and one on the towering wooden figure in front of me. _Okay! Time to show him what I’ve got._ With a deep breath, I raise my arms into a clumsily mimicked fighting stance before hauling back and punching the target with all the strength I can muster. The next second I’m nursing a bruised knuckle as I try not to make any noise beyond the initial cry that escaped. Thinking it a war cry, my father continues to bob from side to side, hitting the dummy from each angle. It’s only once the older man stops the show, panting a bit himself, that he realizes I’m no longer gazing over his shoulder.

 

        Turning to look at me with a smile, it only grows once he sees me attempting to hide my hurt hand. Closing the gap between us, he places a hand on my head, ruffling my hair again, like he knows I hate. “Whatsa matter, Syn?” Looking beyond him, partially out of pride and part in fear that he would make me stop before I learn anything if he knew I’d gotten hurt. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m….I’m fine.” Wincing as I run my fingers over the tender bruise, I finally look up and meet his gaze.

 

        Letting one of his deep, bellowing laughs escape, he gently pats the top of my head. “Good! Cause here I was thinking you’d gone and tried to beat up on ‘em without any gear.” Raising his other hand to show off the worn pair of knuckles, their metal pieces glinting in the sunlight. Patting my head once again, my father grins down at me. “Now be a good girl and close those eyes, okay? Oh, and hold out your hands too.” Suspicious, but trusting in the man, I do what I’m asked with only a moment’s hesitation. Quickly rewarded with the deposit of something heavy and smooth into each palm, my tail can’t help but wag behind me as I hold my breath in anticipation. Squeezing each hand into balled up fists, I admire the smooth wooden texture of what I already knew to be practice knuckles. My hands uncurl as my eyes snap open and I just stand there staring at the fist weapons sitting in my grasp for what feels like eons.

 

        “You’re the best!” Suddenly darting forward with enough speed to even surprise the veteran fighter, I throw my arms around the grinning man to give my best impersonation of one of his bear hugs. As quickly as I pulled myself towards him in a hug, I depart, already eagerly sliding my fingers through the cool leather grip. Chuckling at my enthusiasm, he places a large hand on the top of my head, ruffling my hair again. Paying it no mind this time, I’m already lost in thoughts of how cool this is, and visions of beating up on bad guys. “There, now no more hiding injuries, ya hear?” Meeting his cautionary smile with a beaming grin, my head rises and falls in a flurry of nods as I eagerly agree with him.

 

        Quickly returning to my daydreaming and staring at the fists, I’m enthralled by how they seem to shine in the light, despite only having a few metal bits here and there. _So cool! I’m just like a real hero now! Just like dad is…_  With my tail fwooshing behind me in excitement, I fix my eyes on my first ‘opponent’. Trying to stay light on my feet, I begin to bounce from side to side as I approach the wooden target. With a surprisingly stern voice, my father begins to coach me just like any other fresh recruit. “Remember. You have to conserve your energy when you’re fighting. In the real world the winner isn’t just the strongest, they’re the one that’s able to persevere and keep going.” Despite his coaching, I continue to zigzag from side to side between punches, just as the professional fighters always seem to. All it accomplishes for me though is leaving me a panting mess after the first couple barrages of punches into the hard wooden dummy.

 

        With a sigh, dad slaps me on the back as a signal to take a breather, though it almost sends me tumbling to the ground. Hunching over with hands on my knees, I stare down at the ground as I try and get my breath back. “He’s…..tough…” I manage to get out, raising a finger to point in the direction of the stoic wooden figure. Letting his tough facade fall for a moment as the corner of his lip curls upwards in a grin, dad gives my back a comforting pat. “Ready to call it a day and head back?” Bouncing back up to a combat stance, I rapidly shake my head from side to side. “I’m good! I’ve got lots of energy left, see?”

 

        “You’re definitely spirited.” The old man nods as he makes his way back over to the stoic wooden figure. One of my feline ears gives a slight twitch as it picks up on something different in his tone than the usual fatherly sounding gentleness. I’m actually a bit shocked as he turns back around to face me, his eyes no longer holding the same tender warmth that they usually possess. Instead it’s as if a cold mask had slid over them as all emotion seemingly drains from his jovial face. By the time I take note of the change in persona, he’s standing with a hand on the dummy’s head as he looks me straight in the eyes. “As I was saying. In a fight, the only thing that matters is who outlasts the other. If ‘ya go in swinging like that, you’ll just end up getting yerself killed!” Placing extra emphasis on ‘only’ the man who used to be my father stares down at me, seeming even taller than usual like this. For just a split second, though I could have imagined it, the smallest bit of his normal fatherly warmth peeks through the cracks of his drill sergeant-like facade. Unsure if I should address him as “Dad” or something else, I elect to stay quiet as I approach the training dummy.

 

        Reaching the man, I give him a quick once-over to sate my curiosity. Gone seems to be the caring expression and generally jovial demeanor; instead they’re hidden behind hard eyes and a steely temperament. I’d sooner equate him to a brick wall than the man who’s raised me since I was young. _Well..you asked for this, Synli._  Standing there in silence, I give him a single nod without meeting his gaze again as I drop into a combat stance. Raising a fist on each side, my gaze returns to the battered and beaten figure in front of me.

 

        Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the man nod in what seems to be approval. “Good. Now remember, don’t overexert yourself. Steady your breathing. Watch your surroundings.” Without taking my eyes away from the dummy, I give a slight nod as confirmation that I’ve heard him. “Always watch for openings. Don’t act until your opponent does.” Pacing slowly around the dummy and I, he begins to stop at random intervals to yell out commands. “Punch!” “Strike!”

 

        I’m admittedly caught off guard the first time his voice booms out from behind me, this shows in my attack as it just barely glances off the figure’s torso, adding a small chipped mark amidst the hundreds of others. Giving a deep sigh, the man continues to pace as he withholds commands until he thinks I’ve let my guard down again.      

 

        This time, when his voice roars out from behind me, my body surges forwards as I land a punch square in the chest of the practice figure. Shocked by the brutal sounding crunch of splintering wood that reverberates up my arm, I give my fist a quick once-over, making sure nothing is broken. Luckily neither my fist or the weapon show any indication of being worse for the wear. “It would take a hit harder than that to break anything.” The stern voice sounds out, seemingly from against my ear, causes me to jump and let out a frightened squeak.

 

        Looking down with a blush, I mentally kick myself for losing my composure so easily. _C’mon Synli. That’s not the kind of noise a real warrior would make._  Still fussing at myself for being a scaredy cat, I almost miss the booming command to strike at the dummy once again. Lunging towards the figure, my fist connects with a roaring ‘crack!’ As the training goes on and the sun is carried across the sky, I can feel my arms beginning to ache even when all they’re doing is being raised. Reaching a hand to my forehead, I brush one of the trickling beads of sweat away with the back of my wrist. Dad’s voice has long since begun to strain and crack with each shout that echoes around the training grounds.

 

        Despite my muscles screaming out in agony every time my fists are raised above a certain point, I lift them up once again, ready to give my next set of punches. Readying myself for the next order, I’m suddenly plucked from my combat stance as a hand falls down amidst my scattered plum locks atop my head. Containing my squeak this time with a deep breath, I turn from the ragged training dummy to once again be met with my father’s eyes instead of the cold and distant ones of the instructor. “I think that’s about enough for today, darlin’.” Giving a slow nod as I try not to seem too eager for a break, despite the soreness that’s already begun to set in.

 

        “I didn’t push you too hard, did I?” The man raises a suspicious eyebrow as he gives me a sideways glance, no doubt noticing how I’m struggling to keep pace beside him. Giving a few shakes of the head as we continue our march, I take another deep breath before trying again to normalize my walking and stay right beside him. Letting out a chuckle, his hand goes to my shoulder, gripping it in a gentle squeeze. As we silently march our way back out of the training area, I turn to my thoughts to try and distract from the aches in my arms and shoulders that pulse with barely contained, simmering pain at every step; doubly so when I stumble on a cleverly camouflaged root.

 

        I’m sent a few steps forward on jerky legs as I attempt to do what I can to not lose my balance, sighing deeply when I finally regain some semblance of poise and attempt to keep walking along the trail only to bump into my father’s outstretched hand. Not paying him any mind, I mumble out a weary “Thanks.” As  I move to continue in my shaky stride, I’m gently tugged back into a full stop as I’m unable to push beyond his stationary hand. Wincing from the residual soreness, my eyes scan the trail up ahead, but find nothing out of the ordinary. Looking upward into my father’s face to inquire, any questions I had die on my tongue as I notice the tears beading in the corners of the old man’s tender eyes.

 

        Never in my life before do I remember a time when my father had even shed a tear, let alone cried. The sight of the droplets cascading down his worn and weary cheeks sends a pang of worry into my gut as my body tenses up. All sorts of questions tumble over one another for a chance to be asked, though in the end he brings a single finger up to my lips to hush me, and they all fall away into nothingness, forgotten. I don’t have a clue as to why he’s so upset, but before I know it, tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes as well. “It’s okay that you don’t have it anymore.” _Huh….what does he mean….? I haven’t lost anything….have I?_  “Don’t do anything crazy to try and get it back, either. Yer life’s worth so much more to me than some lousy old trinket.”

 

        At this point his voice is cracking slightly as he speaks, tears running down from those gentle eyes like rivers as they trace the lines that age and years of combat have eroded into his skin. Just like that, the dam seems to break and I can feel rivulets of tears crashing into each other as gravity pulls them down my cheeks. Still lost for words, I can’t do anything but wait and hope that he’ll finally tell me what the hell is going on.

 

        “It’s just a necklace, Syn. Yes it has important memories attached to it, but those are just that, memories! Nothing worth losing yourself over.” Swallowing to try and get rid of the burning lump in my throat, I try my best to force the words out. “But that...it’s right here…” My hand freezes against my chest as I reach for the missing gift, a sharp pang of apprehension slices into me as I’m jolted out of the blissful memory turned saddening dream. The last thing I hear are the fading pleas of my father. Those words cut deep into me as everything fades around me. The grown man, now crying like a child as he begs me to forget about it, stay safe, and live a happy life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, everyone! :3  
> I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, and I'd love it if you would be willing to comment with your thoughts on the story.


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